Black Day Blue Night
by Thor
Summary: The Tzimisce antitribu Harris has a bad night...
1. Part One: Greetings From Friends Old and...

Black Day, Blue Night: A Tale of Detroit 

Something about the way you look at me,  
You watch every move, every word, every fantasy,  
Got no time for love, there's something on your mind,  
Got the face of an angel but the stare of a devil inside.  


Got hell looking up, heaven looking down,  
People say the woman's got an evil eye.  
Got hell looking up, heaven looking down,  
Free me from the woman with the evil eye.  


I turn away but still I see that evil stare,  
Trapped inside my dreams I know you're there.  
Thoughts of happiness you destroyed them all,  
First inside my head, then inside my soul.  
-Black Sabbath Evil Eye  


Part One: Greetings From Friends Old and New  


The phone rang loudly, its shrill cry echoing around the small apartment. The room was a study in contrasts. It was small and obviously cheap, looking almost run down enough to be condemned. However the closet was full of a series of fashionable suits. A pair of heavy coats waited on the coat rack, their stylish lines evidently apparent. A small bed was placed in one corner. The plain white sheets were neatly arranged and tightly pulled straight. Across from the bed was a desk. Arrayed along the wall over it were a collection of neatly pinned up papers, sheet music and charcoal drawings. The simple pictures were interspaced around the musical notes, the papers covered the wall fully, filling every possible space. Sitting on the desk were writing tools and a partially drawn picture. The phone rang again.

Who the hell, muttered the man sitting at the desk. His gray eyes glanced over in annoyance at the phone as he set down the piece of charcoal he had been sketching with. One of his well manicured hands reached out to grab the phone, the smooth cloth of his white dress shirt shifting over his shoulders as he stretched. He pulled the receiver up to his ear and leaned back. He crossed his legs comfortably, his gray slacks pulling slightly tight over his knees as he rested a hand on them. 

The voice was tense, and worried.

Harris' eyes narrowed, this didn't sound like good news.

Oh good, it's me, man. Oh hell, am I glad you haven't moved.

Is this

Yeah, and I got some problems. I was hoping I could pull in some of those favors you keep saying you owe me. I really need you to come over

Well, I guess

Great, same address as last time. This is gonna be big man, I'll fill you in and everything when you get here! Hurry over.

Wait, what- There was a click and then all he could hear was the annoying tone of a disconnected line. Harris set down the phone and frowned. It had been such a peaceful night up to this point too. Damn! 

He stood up and looked down at the drawing; he sighed and shook his head. He'd just have to finish it later. He walked over and pulled one of his coats off the rack and tugged it on. Even as he straightened it he growled in annoyance. He turned and walked over to his closet and slid it open wider. He looked at the pair of nickel plated .45's gleaming dully as they hung in their leather holsters. He frowned as he reached for them. Something told him tonight was not going to be a good night.

* * *

With a wheeze and a sputter Harris' car slowly ground to a stop. The ex-Black Hand, ex-assassin, ex-Sabbat, now anarch Tzimisce stepped out of the jalopy he was driving. He muttered as he kicked the door closed, it still didn't shut all the way. He cursed a few more times and kicked the door again harder. With a screech it finally wedged closed. Harris ran a hand through his thick brown hair as he looked up at the apartment complex. He sighed as he placed his hands in his black overcoat and walked up to the door. A wino who was lounging on the front steps glanced up blearily at Harris as he approached. Harris pulled out a twenty and tossed it to the man. The wino grinned at him with a gap toothed smile as he pocketed the money and moved out of Harris' path. 

Will, it's me, he said as he held down the call button. Harris glanced around the dark streets of South Detroit as he waited for Will to reply. 

Will was a two-bit nobody Caitiff who had the bad habit of signing on with and getting involved in things before he ever paused to consider how dangerous they could be. But he had helped Harris out on more then one occasion. Thus he was worth the effort for Harris to trek all the way over here. Harris frowned as he waited some more. At least Will had been worth helping, but Harris swore if he had to wait much longer

Harris, is that you? 

The voice was shaky, scared. Harris knew Will was a cocky SOB, so whatever had him this shaken up must be real nasty. Harris shook his head, Will, what the hell have you gotten yourself into? He reached over and pushed down the intercom button again. 

No it's your mother.

Look, I gotta be real damn careful here, how do I know it's you.

Will, you asked me to come down here, if this is the shit I'm going to get

Okay, it's you. Relax, come on up.

There was a buzz and the door unlocked. Harris walked into the small and cramped lobby. He glanced over at the worn and beaten elevator; a sign hanging by one rusty nail in the wall announced it as out of order. Harris sighed and headed over to the stairs. The dust covered steps creaked as he started up them. Will always managed to pick the nicest spots Harris thought glumly. He should have known Will was going to be getting into trouble, especially with his recent actions. 

Of late, Will had stopped coming to anarch meetings and had moved down to this hole in the wall dung heap. The few times he had called Harris he had vaguely spoken about being involved with a really sweet deal. A sweet deal down in this section of South Detroit could only mean trouble. Harris reviewed all he had heard of this area. It wasn't much, but it was enough to be worried about. Especially considering the sort of things Will was likely to do.

Old Town, that was what the local neighborhood was known as. 

It was one of the more run down, crime ridden, and decadent areas in all of Detroit. Old Town supported a wide range of hookers, pimps, drug dealers, casinos, and other forms of entertainment. All sorts of sin were available if you were willing to shell out the cash. The hookers were what had made it famous though. 

Everyone and his mother had heard stories about the girls of Old Town. Beautiful women lining the streets and crowding the corners, they'd make all of your dreams come true, for a price. Harris sighed, seeing as how this pleasant little vacation spot sat in the middle of a Setite controlled area he had thought the owners would seem obvious. They weren't.

Apparently back in '96 the Setites were at the height of their power. But they had become too bold, too active, too obvious. A Tremere archon hit town, within a few nights dozens of surprising accidents' started to befall the snakes. It culminated in the fire at an old slaughterhouse that managed to claim almost all of the elder Setites in one final blow. The Setites fell back into the shadows to nurse their wounds, the coils of their power slipped and loosened. There were those within Old Town who decided things were better off without the serpent's fangs sunk in their throats, bleeding the life out of all who lived there. 

A group of like thinking Kindred got together and declared the area a free zone, under no Setite or any other control but theirs. Since it was an all female group, they became known as The Ladies.

The Setites went to war. 

However, The Ladies proved to be quite capable of defending themselves. Soon the entire district was riddled with their agents and spies. No one could make a false move without The Ladies coming down on them hard. And the worst part for the Setites was that the place started to become even more popular and profitable. Apparently a safe area to work in made for more eager customers and sellers. 

In Old Town you could have whatever you wanted for a price, nothing was taboo to those who desired it and had the money. But there was one rule that had to be obeyed. The Ladies were the law in Old Town, and they are the judge, the jury, and the executioners. 

Harris shook his head. Between the Camarilla, The Ladies, the Setites, and any of the dozens of other powerful criminal forces operating in the area Will could have dug himself a pretty deep hole. Who knew how much money or finagling the little weasel would have to dole out to get himself untangled this time.

Harris arrived at the fifth story and stepped out of the stairwell. He walked down the dim and dust filled hallway till he reached Will's door. He tried the handle, but it was locked. Will must be real nervous not to have already unlocked his door. Harris muttered as he knocked. There was no response. Harris knocked again, still no reply. He frowned, something wasn't right. 

He pressed his ear to the door, his senses becoming razor sharp as he strained to hear everything from within the apartment. The only sound that reached his ear was a creaky humming, and the pattering of a liquid on the floor. Harris breathed in, his nose twitching as he sniffed at the air. One scent was stronger then the rest, the scent of blood. With a curse he kicked the door inward. 

Inside was Will.

Damn Will, you should have told me what sort of problem it was.

Harris looked up at the body as it spun gently in the air. The legs had been tied together by barbed wire, and then hooked to the ceiling fan. Will's head was missing; the bloody stump that had been his neck dribbled a stream of blood in a circle on the floor. The killer had taken him out in the few minutes between Will letting Harris in, and Harris reaching the door. 

Will's apartment was in its usual state of chaos, Piles of junk and discarded clothes littered the floor and the sofa. A dead hooker was slumped in a chair in the back of the room, the two windows on either side of her letting in twin streams of moonlight to light her pallid flesh. Her neck had been sliced open; a plastic straw was still sticking from the garish, and fairly fresh, wound. 

Harris' eyes narrowed, something was wrong. Will was the only nut job Harris had ever met who liked to suck his blood from humans through a straw. It had to do with his bizarre obsession about not touching flesh. So if Will had drained her, and then been killed, there should be a mountain of freshly consumed blood to come spraying out of his body. Yet there was only a small splattered circle under the body, and no other signs of bloodstains. 

Harris breathed in, his keen senses picking up the slight trace of an aroma he hadn't noticed beneath the normally overwhelming smell of blood. In a flash Harris knew who the killer was, how it had been done so quickly, and why there wasnt more blood. He caught the whisper of movement behind him.

Hey lover, didn't I try to warn you to avoid me? 

Blue.

The blade tore through his chest, Harris' heart burst, spraying his insides with blood. In shock and agony from the extreme damage he could do little to stop Blue as her second blade tore through his neck, severing his head in one brutal cut. 

At least that's how Blue expected it to go, and it would have. Had Harris kept his heart in the same place every human did. But he had long ago taken to moving it around within his body. Thus, even as the blade tore into him he was ducking and rolling, ripping the sword from her surprised grasp. Her second cut caught nothing but air. Harris came up from his roll and spun around to face her. His hand snaked around his back and jerked the short curved sword out of him. 

he hissed as he flipped the bloody blade around and caught it by the handle. Aw no. 

Harris held the sword firmly in his hand as he warily watched the deadly Assamite. She stood there, a goddess carved of alabaster. Her long blonde hair swung around her face, her tight and short blue dress clung to her curves. The dress extended down from her shoulders to cover her arms and hands fully, her blue satin covered fingers lightly gripped a second deadly curved blade in her left hand. Harris tensed, ready for her rush. Instead she stood there and smirked at him.

You're going to fight me with a sword? Hmmm, better think fast! Blue pulled out a gun. 

Aw hell, Harris' eyes widened as he cursed and dove for cover. A bullet snapped past his ear and shattered the window behind him. He rolled across the floor and came up behind a small sofa in the middle of the room. 

He heard Blue's short laugh. Oh, of course, the sofa! That'll stop a bullet. 

She fired again. Bullets ripped through the upholstery, spitting clouds of foam up about him. Harris' head snapped about looking for a way out, he spotted an open door nearby. With a desperate diving leap, Harris sprang away from the sofa even as it was ripped apart by Blue's shots. He sprawled headlong into the bathroom as bullets tore through the air behind him. Harris spun over onto his back, and dropped the sword as he eyed the open doorway. His hands tore into his coat and pulled out his pair of automatics. He snapped his arms forward, pointing them at the open door. The .45's gleamed as he lay there, expecting Blue to burst in after him.

Instead she dashed past the door, a sudden blur of movement. He heard the sounds of her feet on broken glass as she leapt out the window with a laugh. Harris cursed as he scrambled to his feet and ran after her. He reached the window and looked down into the alley below. But all he saw was the fleeting flash of bluish color as she disappeared around the corner. Harris cursed again as he shoved the guns back into his coat. 

Blue. Damn! 

It had only been a few weeks since he had faced her and overcome that part of his past. She had sworn that if they met again one of them would end up dead. She had warned him about interfering with her. But then she had turned on her employers, the Sabbat. She had helped him, helped him to escape. He would have thought that she would be long gone, having fled the city and the vengeful Sabbat. But, of course, Blue would do the last thing expected of her, which was, of course, to stay right here in Detroit.

Near him.

Will, you idiot, what the hell had you done to get Blue to come after you? At that thought Harris was forced to ask why the hell she had been here at all. It wasnt like she worked for the Sabbat anymore, not that they would be sending an assassin into South Detroit to off a small time crook like Will. Especially with a high priced killer like Blue.

Harris backed away from the window and eyed the slowly turning body hanging from the ceiling fan. Will, you idiot. This was not how he had hoped to spend his night. He'd cleaned up enough messes for George that he didn't fancy doing so for Blue. However, if he was going to give lip service to the Camarilla he'd better live up to their rules. Glory to the Masquerade and all that nonsense. 

Harris quickly closed the front door. At least in a neighborhood like this the gunshots wouldn't attract attention too quickly, so he would have time to properly hide all evidence of vamparic activity. He walked over and scooped the hooker's dead body out of the chair and laid it down on the floor. He retrieved the sword he had taken from Blue and cut down Will's body. It dropped to the floor with a wet splat, spraying some of the dribbled blood on his pants. Harris cursed again, muttering in annoyance at the stains. Then he frowned, looking at the body, and soon was cursing once more.

Where the hell had she put the goddamn head?

Harris walked over to peer into the bathroom, no luck. He opened the cabinet under the sink, still nothing. He walked back into the main room and began sorting through the piles of junk there. She hadn't been holding it when she came out to attack his back, but chances were shed been doing something with it when he interrupted her. Harris looked up, there was only one place she could have been hiding from him when he came in and still managed to come at him from behind. The kitchen. 

Harris opened the refrigerator first, knowing the way Blue could attempt humor sometimes. Sure enough Will's head was there, with straws stuck into every possible location, and his features twisted into a grotesque smile. Harris reached into the fridge and pulled the head out.

Cute, Blue, real cute, he sighed.

The front door opened. 

The bright spray of light nearly caused Harris to leap and yell in surprise. How the hell could he have missed hearing someone approaching! He was slipping in his old age. Harris pressed himself against the wall, clutching the head tightly, as two figures entered. 

The first was a brunette, dressed in leathers and a cowboy hat. Her curly brownish red hair hung out of the hat and past her shoulders. She held a pair of revolvers in her hands as she entered. Her eyes were wide and nervous. She gripped her guns too tightly, knuckles white, showing her inexperience.

Next to her came a small oriental woman. Standing a shade under five feet tall and dressed in a pair of white tights and a loosely belted gi top, also white. Her short dark hair was cut off tightly at the shoulders, a sword was strapped to her hip. The brunette took a step forward, her eyes wide as she looked at the two bodies.

Aww Will The cowgirl's arms dropped to hang her guns limply at her sides as she looked at the body. The small swordswoman however had stopped motionless a few steps into the room. She slowly twisted to look over her shoulder into the kitchen. Where Harris stood, holding Will's head. Harris looked back at her and smiled.

Hello ma'am, would you believe I'm a friend of the family? 


	2. Part Two: A Guest of Honor

Black Day, Blue Night: A Tale of Detroit  


Part Two: A Guest of Honor  


This night didn't look like it was going to be good at all.

At the moment Harris was standing in the kitchen of his friend Will's apartment. Will's decapitated body lay in the center of the room in a pool of blood, next to it was the dead and drained corpse of a hooker. Will's head was in Harris' hands, straws stuck out of its grotesquely grinning features. 

The front door was wide open, two women stood in the entryway. One was a frightened looking brunette in cowboy attire, two revolvers in her hands as she looked in horror at the two dead bodies. The second was a diminutive Asian swordswoman in a white gi top and tights, she was looking at Harris as he stood in the kitchen with the head.

He somehow suspected it didn't look like he was an innocent bystander.

Hello ma'am, would you believe I'm a friend of the family? He had to admit it wasn't the best thing he could have said, but he had been caught off guard.

The cowgirl turned in shock at the sound of his voice. Her hands snapped up, pointing the guns towards his face. Harris cursed yet again. He was right, tonight was not going to be a good night. 

Guess not 

He hurled Will's head straight at the cowgirl; she shrieked in surprised fear and ducked the hideous missile. Harris didn't even wait to see her reaction. He turned and leapt up onto the island counter that ringed part of the kitchen, and sprang off it back into the living room. 

The swordswoman shoved the screaming cowgirl out of her way as she pulled out her blade and leapt after him. It was a dead race for the windows. Harris leapt and covered his face with his arms as he smashed into the still intact window. Glass shattered around him and cut at his arms as his jump sent him sailing over the fire escape and plummeting towards the pavement five stories below.

He smashed headfirst into the ground, his right arm took the brunt of the impact, he heard the sickening crunch as it snapped. He rolled up to his feet, and then collapsed to his knees. He glanced down at his left leg; the back of it had been cleanly sliced open by the swordswoman as he had made his leap for the window. He grunted as he forced his blood down to begin patching up the gash. 

He glanced up and watched as the tiny Oriental woman sprang through the shattered window and onto the fire escape. With hardly a pause she hopped off the edge and grabbed onto one of the support beams. Bracing her feet against it and holding on with one hand, while her other gripped her sword, she started to slide quickly down the pole.

Damn, she's fast, hissed Harris as he started to stagger away. At the same time he whipped out one of his pistols and fired at the quickly descending blur of white. She pushed off of the pole even as he fired, his bullets hitting nothing but air. She somersaulted backwards and landed softly on the ground, the large loose sleeves of her gi billowing around her arms as she raised her blade. 

Harris turned and ran for it, dashing at full speed down the alley and back out towards the street. A bullet snapped by his ear as the cowgirl leaned out the window and fired at him. She shouted something. He ignored her and charged around the corner and back towards his car. Standing in front of the building were two more girls. Both were identical in appearance, young and blonde, and very voluptuous. They each wore a tight red outfit that hugged their curves nicely. Of course Harris was paying far more attention to the fact that each of them were also pulling out Glocks and turning to look at him.

Freeze asshole, said one of them in a bubbly little girl's voice. He skidded to a stop as they raised their weapons. He turned about and started back the way he came, only to come up short as the Asian girl with a sword came sprinting out of the alley to cut him off. He glanced back at the twin gun dolls; their gazes were steady as they targeted their pistols at his face. 

These must be The Ladies, Harris surmised, and it looks like they think I just killed my friend. It wouldn't have been the first time, came a dark thought within his mind, Harris ignored it as he held his arms out to his sides. No problem, he thought, all I need to do is talk my way out of this. I'll just explain to them how this is all a mistake.

Look, I think, he began. Then the sword came hissing up to rest next to his neck. The twins stalked in, their guns still pointing at him.

Don't bother, snapped one of them as she advanced. You'll be answering all of our questions soon enough. Aw no, aw hell, thought Harris as the three women closed in about him This night just didn't seem to be getting any better

* * *

Blue walked down the street and paused at the corner. What the hell had Harris been doing there? This complicated things unnecessarily. She crossed her arms over her chest, the blue jacket she wore tugged strangely at her. She muttered in annoyance, the lack of having both her swords concealed inside of it was throwing off the line of the designer garment. Harris stole my sword, she thought in a minor flash of annoyance. She brushed a hand through her blonde hair as she considered her options. The job was over, that was certainbut, she so hated loose ends. And knowing Harris he wouldn't give up so easily. That pathetic bum of a Caitiff just had to have been a friend of his. Blue sighed.

Harris could get so uptight about his friends being killed. 

She looked up as a car pulled to a stop at the curb. She cocked her head in surprise when she realized it wasn't her ride. Instead it was a sporty blue mustang. The darkly tinted window rolled down as a young man leaned out. He smiled rakishly at her as he eyed her up and down.

And here I thought I knew all of the finest women hereabouts. Hey baby, wanna go for a ride? He grinned widely, his shining white teeth flashing next to his tanned healthy skin.

Excuse me? Blue blinked at his arrogance. She was accustomed to men being drawn to her. But rarely were they so brazen in their interests. Usually some primitive danger sense tried to warn them off. Oh, they still came, but it was with a more careful and subtle approach.

I asked if you wanted to go. Don't worry, I got money. Cash. Blue suddenly smirked in understanding. Of course, Old Town and its legendary girls. She glanced down at her attire, a skintight short blue dress that included full length blue gloves, her little tight blue jacket. She did look the part she supposed, she glanced back up at the man. Well? I don't got all night honey, you in or out?

I don't think you could handle me, junior, why don't you run back to mommy.

The man's face flushed red in surprised anger at her dismissal. Who the fuck do you think you are? Blue glanced away from him as a large black Cadillac pulled up behind him.

Sorry, but my ride's here, she said with a grin. She walked towards the car as the driver's door opened and Roulda stepped out. The towering monster of a man was dressed in his usual black suit and chauffeur's hat. He bowed to her slightly as one massive white gloved hand reached out to open the back door for her.

What the hell? Fuck you bitch! The young man muttered as he started his car back up. Blue froze in her tracks and glanced over her shoulder at him. Her blue eyes flashed. The young man turned to look at her with a grin as he revved his engine. Ha, you'll never know what you missed! Blue grinned at him as she reached up and brushed at some of her hair, pushing the long strands back behind her ear.

Oh baby, you shouldn't Her arm snapped forward in a blur, the knife flashing through the air to embed into his eye. He was tossed back to collapse onto the passenger seat, dead before he ever knew what happened. Blue glanced over at Roulda and nodded at him. Thanks, but I think I just got myself a ride. Follow me, I've still got a bit of business to take care of here.

Of course, mistress, rumbled the powerful Tzimisce as he bowed again. Blue sauntered over to the car and opened the door. She shoved the dead owner fully over into the passenger seat and climbed in. With a chuckle she popped the knife out of his eye and cleaned it on his coat. As she slipped it back into the hidden sheath behind her neck she revved the engine of the sporty car. She grinned as she felt the rumble of power beneath her. With a sigh of satisfaction she accelerated with a roar out onto the street. This promised to be a great night.

* * *

The night just kept getting better. If by better he meant worse. Harris struggled against the chains that held him to the heavy metal chair. He sighed and shook his head, no way was he going to just rip his way out of his shackles. He glanced around the room and watched the grim faces of his captors. 

The diminutive Oriental woman straightened her fingerless white gloves as she looked at the array of sharpened implements spread out on the floor in front of her. The cowgirl leaned against a wall and smirked at him. Sitting at a table in the corner and looking at Will's head was a small mousy woman, her short dark hair circled her small rounded face. She was leaning down close to the head and looking at it seriously, she also seemed to be talking to it in soft whispers. 

Standing in front of Harris was an amazon of a woman, at least six feet tall and with a lean and muscular frame. She wore a pair of dark round sunglasses, combined with her short and wild blonde hair it gave her a surprisingly intimidating presence. She shook her head from side to side as he finished telling his story yet again. She held up Blue's curved short sword and ran one of her fingers across the blade.

You'll like Miho, you and she are both good with knives. The tall woman pointed with the sword at the crouching figure of the swordswoman. The small figure selected a curved knife with a sharp hook on the end. She twirled it lightly around her fingers as she looked up at him.

I didn't kill Will, Harris said once more. He was starting to feel like an old record that just kept jumping and playing the same tune over and over, and doing nothing but annoying the listeners. He didn't care much for the analogy. He remembered what he used to do to records that did thata section of his apartment's wall was chipped from the impacts. I was there because he asked me to be. I'm a friend of his.

And with friends like these, muttered the woman looking at the head. Harris cursed again at his situation. From what he had heard The Ladies were usually more then willing to enact their own justice on anyone they caught breaking their rules. He idly wondered if the anarchs would even give a damn. He was almost certain the Prince wouldn't. The amazon caught the exasperated look on his face; she grinned at him and leaned down. 

Fine, let's say you didn't kill him, she smirked, why did you have his head, and the murder weapon? Harris sighed, broken record, broken recordhow long till they shattered him against a wall?

I came in on the assassin, there was a fight. The assassin ran for it and abandoned that sword. I admit that I was getting ready to dispose of the evidence. But I was trying to preserve the Masquerade, not conceal a murder. I've told you this twice already.

For a man who's chained to a chair you're awfully rude. The tall woman set the blade down on the table next to Will's head. She turned back towards him and leaned up against the edge of the table as she nodded towards the Oriental. Miho's looking anxious. I might decide to be nice to her and just let her get started. She doesn't ask many questions like I do, but she always gets answers. Miho now sat patiently with her blades. She glanced up to look at Harris, her face remaining calm and unreadable. The tall woman grinned. Harris sighed; this was not a good night.

blurted out the woman at the table. Harris shook his head at the sudden stream of words and looked over at her.

What the hell did she just say, demanded the cowgirl in annoyance. Harris found himself wondering the same thing.

Becca, slow down, urged the tall woman.

I think he is speaking truth. 

Finally, the voice of reason, sighed Harris. He could have kissed her.

She's a Malk.

He could have killed her. 

The last thing he needed was the group's Malkavian trying to suggest he was trustworthy. Especially when said Malkavian talked to heads and spoke in uninterrupted streams of syllables. However the tall woman apparently took this message with some seriousness, she turned around and leaned down closer to the Malk.

Why is he innocent, Becca?

Simple, I remember Will talkingabout a friend of his, thenhe went and got a message fromhim one day. Itwas signed with an H' name, Harris isa name that begins in H' Then wehave evidence that thisman would not havehad the mindset to place straws in anotherman's nose. His demeanor suggests he prefers kills that are more direct and perhaps, ifIamright, more artistic. Plus, what assassin would be driving a Honda Accord? The tall woman nodded. Harris blinked a few times. 

Aw hell, he was screwed. Who the hell tried to defend someone on the basis of how cruddy their ride was? As if assassins had some unwritten rule that they should be tooling around in cool sports cars. 

* * *

Blue roared through the traffic light, the Mustang purring like a cat as she allowed it to run wild. The air roared through the open windows, rushing over her face and running through her hair. She glanced behind her and sighed as she again slowed down to allow Roulda to catch back up, her aide apparently unwilling to so blatantly break the traffic laws. Further back, behind Roulda, she caught just a brief glimpse of the silver Lexus. She smiled to herself, amateurs. Oh well, at least they were persistent. She put them out of her mind as she came closer to her destination. 

She took another turn and coasted down the street, her eyes dancing along the signs decorating the front of the dingy businesses. Ah, there it was! She pulled around the block and into the alley behind the building, Roulda pulled in after her. No need to tip off her prey before she struck and it would make the departure easier if their cars were already out back. She hopped out of the Mustang as Roulda clambered out of his car. He looked at her and then over at the building.

Mistress, what are we

Relax Roulda, you're the one who told me about this place. Besides, I think you'll enjoy the new target. In fact, I guarantee it. Roulda nodded as he started to head towards the building, Blue smiled as she looped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. As a matter of fact, if you've been good I might just let you do it. Have you been good? 

She felt his muscles tense slightly underneath his suit. Roulda well knew how dangerous and capricious she could be. But he didn't need to worry; she was only looking for one of her loves to die tonight.

* * *

Hell Nikki, this is bullshit! I came in and caught the freak red handed! He was holding the bloody head! The head! The cowgirl seemed even more eager to off him now that the Malk had urged them not to. The Oriental sat quietly, keeping an eye on the amazon. The Malkavian's eyes danced back and forth while she watched the argument.

Look Dallas, I'm not saying I think he's innocent. I just want to get to the truth before we go and dust him. You got a problem with that? Nikki stepped forward, her powerful frame easily dwarfing the smaller Dallas. The cowgirl's eyes narrowed as one of her hands dropped to her gun belt. Harris caught the flicker of motion as Miho shifted her posture and gripped one of her swords. He suspected that if the cowgirl decided to draw on her leader she'd be dead before she could even fire.

Fine, fuck it! Dallas tossed her hands up in agitation. Miho shifted back to her old posture. But let me tell you this, Dallas snapped as she pointed at Nikki. I don't wanna have to be the one to say I told you so! 

Nikki nodded and turned back to Harris, she eyed him up and down slowly. Maybe you didn't kill him, maybe. Dallas snorted in annoyance as she crossed her arms.

I didn't.

So, what do you know about the assassin that did? Nikki smiled at him as she walked back over to begin a whole new line of questioning. 

Harris sighed, he had hoped to avoid this. Blue was bad news, dangerous and evil. However, in his own way, Harris loved her as much as his dear Nancy. He didn't want to betray her, but it was the right thing to do. If he wouldn't hunt her down, why not let these ladies do it? Surely, someone, somehow would have to face Blue and stop her. She was too dangerous to trust, and too deadly to let run free. Harris nodded, Blue had to be stopped. He looked up at Nikki.

Sorry, nothing. He supposed he'd regret saying that tomorrow night. 

Nikki placed her hands on her hips as she looked at him. Harris forced himself to meet her gaze evenly. This woman was dangerous too, and in more ways then one. Anyone with enough gall to oppose the prince and try to put together her own little personal kingdom had to be built from tempered steel. He eyed the sharp and dangerous lines of her face and body. She was like a statue, a carving depicting the power and danger of women. A Valkyrie, an ancient warrior goddess. She leaned down and grabbed his coat, without the slightest hint of effort she picked him, and his chair, up and stared into his eyes.

I'm going to let you go now. For what it's worth I think you're playing it straight with me. I'm going to give you my phone number. If you learn anything give me a call. Will was my friend too, and I don't like people hurting my friends.

I sort of guessed that much, said Harris quietly as he hung in her grip.

Good. You have to stick by your friends, that's my motto. So you better stick by Will and help me find who killed him. You aren't going to make me regret this are you? She shook him, a show of her power. He easily spotted the not so subtle implication.

Good, Miho, unlock him. The small white robed figure slipped over and quickly undid the locks. Nikki pulled out her wallet and handed him a small card with nothing but a number scrawled on it. Harris stood slowly and slipped the card into his jacket. He nodded to the amazon, she motioned to the door with a twist of her head. Harris nodded again and slipped out. 

He quickly headed down the steps and out into the street. The twins sat patiently on the hood of his car; apparently they had been nice enough to drive it here for him. They smirked at him as they hopped off and motioned that he could have it. He growled as he stepped forward and went to get his keys, his hand reached into an empty pocket. He paused in annoyance and looked up. One of the girls grinned and tossed them to him. His hand snapped up and caught them.

he opened the door and climbed in. With a shake and a sputter the car slowly started as he turned the ignition. There was a loud pop as the exhaust fired noisily. Off and away ye mighty stallion, he growled in annoyance as it ground out into the street. This has not been a good night, he muttered while shaking his head. Not good at all. 

He would be happy to just get the hell out of Old Town and back to the streets he knew. His mind still swam with thought about what to do with Blue. Should he stop her? Ignore her? Orjoin her? He shook away the last, nono. He wasn't that man anymore. Filled with doubts he started to drive off. All he was certain of, for sure, was that he needed a drink.

* * *

From the window above Nikki watched him start to drive away, she checked her pistols and slipped them into the holsters strapped to her side. Becca, hold down the fort. She reached over and pulled a long black leather coat off a rack and quickly slipped it on. Miho, Dallas, let's go! Nikki turned and rushed through the door. 

Dallas asked in shock as she rushed after Nikki down the stairs.

We're going to follow him, our friend Mr. Harris knows something. I'd bet my life on it.

What! Why the hell weren't you betting your life on it when he was sitting right there all locked up! I told you so! Nikki burst out onto the street and rushed over to her black Camero, she quickly opened the car and hopped into it. Dallas quickly rushed into the passenger seat as Miho leaped into the back.

I was just as sure then, Nikki hissed as she started the car and quickly pulled into the street. She spun the wheel and peeled off after Harris.

Then why?

Because he wasn't telling us everything! He's holding something back, and I want to know what, and I want to know why. Nikki accelerated down the dark roads. 

At least driving that tub he's in oughta make it easy to catch him, muttered Dallas as she leaned back in her seat. So what are we going to do once we find him?

Wait, watch, listen. See if he's hiding something because he's scared. Or because he's working for the killer.

And if he is?

Then he's going to regret ever coming into Old Town. Nikki's eyes narrowed as she continued driving. Dallas nodded. In the back seat Miho gripped the hilt of her sword, and waited. The time for killing would come soon enough. 


End file.
